Three Strikes
by TheVelvetDusk
Summary: "She's seen that same flash of irritation in his eyes many times, but this may be the first time she's ever seen it directed at someone other than herself." {speculation for post-2x03 drama based on nothing but promotional stills & tv ads / Jessica POV because my brain is weird like that / you know who I ship, ok}


_A/N: This is another one of those stories that should simply be filed under "where did this come from and why" because I SWEAR I didn't want to write it. I didn't want to touch the J-plot at all until I saw how it was handled on screen but whooops this happened anyway._

 _THIS IS SPECULATION. I don't know spoilers about how this will really go down and I like it that way. This fic was influenced by promotional stills and previews that have aired on tv, but that's it. I don't watch the sneak peeks either, so try not to sneak peek me in the reviews ;) Everything else is my interpretation (which may or may not be fueled by the loopiness of a head cold I can't seem to shake, so that should explain this lol)._

* * *

 _Strike One_

Jessica isn't a fighter. She doesn't know the first thing about it, she's never been in a situation where she had to defend herself, and quite frankly, she's never even wanted to know that side of Wyatt. In the beginning, it had scared the hell out of her to think about what he could get himself into when he was away...later on, the ever-growing rift of what happened while they were apart inspired nothing but bitterness inside of her, and then she wanted to know even less.

Now here she is, in the middle of some helter-skelter mission of his that she wants nothing to do with, and apparently she's the only one who's so pathetically helpless in the face of danger. That so-called professor colleague of his has just thrown herself headfirst into the menacing brawl unfolding before them, because Wyatt is down and things are about to go from bad to much, much worse.

And the redheaded woman spits fire back at Lucy in retaliation, looking all too happy to have an excuse to redirect her attention, which means Lucy takes a nasty blow before Wyatt can right himself again.

Jess panics. She darts out into the hall to search for help, calls out without answer, then turns back just in time to nearly get bowled over by their opponent's hasty retreat.

The crisis is over...for now. But as Jess peers back into the room to check on Wyatt and Lucy, she finds them perfectly preoccupied with each other, which sounds the alarm of a whole different type of crisis. A personal one.

Wyatt is carefully pulling Lucy to her feet, his brow furrowed with worry lines Jessica doesn't remember seeing on him until just now.

Lucy still seems rather unbalanced, adrift…but apparently that doesn't matter. She starts to back away from him almost immediately and Wyatt isn't having it. He steps further into the narrow channel between them, promptly crowding in closer to her. _Far_ closer than the role of teammate necessitates. Unashamedly close, like it's a force of habit. Like it doesn't even occur to him that he's doing it.

And his hands haven't left Lucy's arms.

He's asking if she's okay in a low tone, and he won't let her shrug it off dismissively. His probing gaze dips down to her side, the one that's recently sported some mystery injury that no one's really formally acknowledged in front of Jess, but she's more perceptive than any of them give her credit for. She's spent too many years on the sidelines as Wyatt has nursed wounds he refuses to talk about. She knows without being told that Lucy has taken the brunt of something ugly shortly before Jess met her. She stubbornly bears it without complaint, just like someone else Jess knows a little too well.

Lucy is shaking her head at Wyatt now, new urgency entering her eyes as she assures him. It's the most lively expression Jess has seen on her washed-out face in the crazy blur of these last few days. "No, it's fine. I promise."

"Get it checked when we're back?"

It's a question, a genuine plea, a heartfelt request that leaves him with a scrape of torment. He's not telling her what to do, but he's hanging by a precarious thread as he holds out for the answer he's so desperate to hear. Jess winces at that voice. It's not one he's often used in front of her.

Lucy stares at him with a look so unforgettably soft - brown eyes wide and wavering with unconcealed emotion - that Jess can't help but feel sharply out of place as she hovers just a few feet away. She's an intruder here. She's lurking on the outskirts of something significant, something she has no right to watch.

Several seconds pile up like mountains of debris around them, each moment filled to the brim with words not spoken aloud, and then Lucy yields at last with a slow nod, her lips parting with a lagging, "Okay."

Only then does Wyatt release her. Only then do either of them seem to remember that Jessica exists, let alone stands near enough to witness every loaded detail of this odd exchange.

She's too blown away in the presence of this man - this gentle, deferential, vulnerable man who looks just like her husband but acts nothing like him - to realize she should be offended by the scene that's just played out before her. Even later, when she's buzzing with the burden of far too many questions to make any sort of attempt at sleeping, she still doesn't feel the jealousy that she knows should be there. If anything, she wants this Lucy woman to teach her how to earn that same sort of respect.

Wyatt has always been a gentleman. He'd treated her like a prize from the very beginning, something to be cherished even if he wasn't sure he'd ever deserved an object of such high value. She hasn't been able to put it into words until now, but after today it makes perfect sense to her - she's never wanted to live her life up on that shelf where he'd kept her, treasured from some distance, cared for but mostly just admired as a gift that's nearly unattainable. She wanted to be his equal. She wanted to be his partner, not his prize.

Now it seems he's found that partner in someone other than her.

* * *

 _Strike Two_

Something is off with Wyatt from the moment they step foot into the Silo's echoing common area. Jessica's gaze flits uncertainly between him and the rest of the room until realization dawns with razor sharp remembrance. _Oh_.

She's seen that same flash of irritation in his eyes many times, but this may be the first time she's ever seen it directed at someone other than herself.

At first she's relieved to know she's not the one on the receiving end of that glare. He's unbearable when he gets like this and their worst fights usually start right here. The signs are all the same as before. The blue of his eyes gets flinty, impenetrably hard. His jaw nearly snaps with tension. She can hear his short exhale of annoyance, sees the color beginning to bloom up his neck as his agitation builds. Every muscle is at full attention like he's preparing to spring himself at a rapidly approaching predator. His worst instincts are burning into overdrive, but the object of all his crescendoing anger is totally oblivious to the fire she's provoking.

Lucy is sunk so far into the starkly-built couch that it looks like she may just get absorbed right into the drab leather upholstery. Her feet are up and her head is tilted carelessly sideways, a half-empty bottle dangling from her fingertips.

There are more bottles on the table on front of her. A few others are scattered haphazardly over the floor too.

But most notably, there's a second person - the tall guy with dark hair, the one person Wyatt has pointedly _not_ introduced to Jess - who also sits there clutching the remnants of a beer, his long arm suspended over the side of the couch as he lounges backwards. His other arm is anchored to the back of the couch, which means the corner of Lucy's forehead is pressed against the inside of his elbow. It's the only part of their bodies that touch, certainly innocent enough to warrant absolutely no reaction at all, but Wyatt's never been one to deny himself a damn good reaction to just about anything that snags his pride.

Neither of them seem to notice that they have company. Jess isn't even sure that they're on this side of conscious, although the guy's eyes seem to be cracked ever so slightly in a way that's instantly familiar.

Sleeping with one eye open. Memory tells her that Wyatt tends to sleep the same way.

"C'mon," he commands with a terse snarl of his lip. "Let's go."

From what Jess knows of this place, there really isn't anywhere else for them to sit and wait for the government agent that Wyatt reports to, but it's abundantly clear that they will not be waiting _here_. Not where just-a-teammate Lucy is conked out next to the nameless guy who Wyatt hates for unspeakable reasons.

The reasons maybe just became a bit more clear. Even though Wyatt has never explicitly stated that Lucy is _just_ a teammate, there's no need for him to clarify further now. His current demeanor tells the story all on its own.

Upon second review, it occurs to Jess that it's a little hurtful to see him getting so riled up over another woman. Yeah, it's nice that she won't have to deal with the rage monster that's sure to emerge the next time he's alone with Lucy, but she's still unsettled by what she just saw, and that leaves her feeling jealous over his jealousy… Perhaps an all new low point in the never-ending series of screwed up head games that volleys between them.

Well shit.

She turns her head in shame, pissed off with herself for getting sucked back into the intense black hole that is Wyatt Logan. And because old habits die so damn hard and neither one of them have ever had much self-control with each other, she finds herself stoking the coals of his anger before she can think better of it.

"How long have you and Lucy been sleeping together?" she asks snidely as he marches her back down the hall they'd just come through moments ago.

"Who says we're sleeping together?" he grouses back without missing a beat.

"You don't have to hide it, you know. We're not exactly on the best of terms these days. It wouldn't surprise me if - "

" _Jess_ ," he mutters between gritted teeth, "drop it."

"Aren't you gonna go in there and scream at her? You know, tell her she's better than this? I can wait here if you'd like to double back and demand that she quits day drinking and distances herself from that creep. Maybe you'd also like to accuse her of making a fool out of the both of you while you're at it? Or tell her to choose her drinking buddies more carefully from here on out."

She finally runs out of steam and grants him an opening to respond. Wyatt's face is tomato red by now, but she's astonished to find that his voice remains level. "You done?"

She nods, a little shaken by the strange spike of adrenaline that's coursing through her veins. "Yeah. I think that's it."

He breathes in, closes his eyes, exhales slowly. He's in control again when his gaze meets hers. The words are low and measured, practically unrecognizable to her ear. "Lucy is her own person. It's not my place to monitor her drinking or tell her who she's allowed to hang out with."

And as if he hasn't already shocked the hell out of her with that response, he does her one better. He _apologizes_.

"I had no right to do that to you either...especially not if I was gonna be such a dick about it. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."

"I…" Jess huffs a difficult breath and glances down at the floor, "I did deserve it sometimes."

"No," he insists. "Not like that. No one ever deserves to be talked to like _that_. I was out of line."

She used to dream of a day he'd say such things to her. Now she just dreams of a day where they could go back to a time where he never needed to apologize in the first place. A time where he could work through his emotions first, express his concerns second. Even better, a time where she never learned how to intentionally press his hot buttons every time she let her frustrations get the better of her. A blank slate. A chance for both of them to treat each other a little better - a little kinder - from the start.

A time where she could have with Wyatt what he probably had - or _has_ \- with Lucy Preston.

* * *

 _Strike Three_

Lucy has yelled his name twice and gotten nothing in return. He's standing as still as a statue several yards away from them, gun cocked and shoulders squared as hell breaks loose all around him, but he's not doing a thing to defend himself in the melee. The muscles of his back are firm and unflinching through the material of his shirt. His feet are motionless, rooted stiffly to the ground. Jess isn't even sure he's breathing at this point.

"Dammit, Wyatt," Lucy mutters under her breath from beside her. The words may sound flippant, but there's nothing casual or ironic about the way she watches Wyatt from afar. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply after another second passes, thoroughly clearing every last trace of hysteria from her expression.

Jess still doesn't understand what's happening, but she's seized with panic when Lucy darts out into the open space beyond the protection of their cover, taking off as fast as her feet will carry her between rounds of bullets.

"What are you - Lucy? Wait -"

She whips her head back to Jessica with eyes as hard as stone. "Stay there. I'll be right back."

It's an order, one that Jess follows without thinking twice. There's no room for argument, and she's too terrified to defy the command anyhow. Wyatt had said this woman was a civilian, but she's not so convinced that he'd been honest about that. Not after she's watched her divide through an active shootout - _unarmed_ \- without so much as a wince at the sudden burst of renewed artillery going off around her.

Somehow Lucy makes it to him without incident, shoving her way right up into Wyatt's face like she's got a spine made of pure steel. His hand twitches around his gun as if he doesn't recognize if she's friend or foe, but there's zero hesitation in Lucy's next move. She grasps his face in her hands and starts talking right away. The actual words are lost in the boom of surrounding gunfire, and Jess has never had any luck at reading lips, but Lucy's expression is puckered and ragged, finally conceding the severity of the situation.

But she doesn't stop talking. Doesn't stop imprisoning his face in her white-knuckled grip, either. She perseveres until Wyatt is suddenly slumping forward into her. Lucy's arms loop around his middle and she has to rock back on her heels to accommodate the shift of his weight, but she doesn't let him fall. She stays upright for the both of them. Even then, her mouth is still moving close to his ear, telling him only God knows what to get him through whatever the hell just happened to him.

When Wyatt finally lifts his head, he says two words, and even from here, the message is clear - " _Thank you_."

Lucy's wobbling smile might be a little tear-stricken. Wyatt locks a hand around her shoulder and squeezes, smiling gingerly in return.

They split apart as bullets rage nearer. He shields her body with his, lines up a shot, fires twice. Wyatt keeps her angled behind him as they break out into a run, one hand wrapped firmly around his gun, the other hand wrapped just as firmly around Lucy.

He eyes Jess warily when he's back at her side, gauging how much she's just seen...how much she's just _understood_.

Her mouth won't cooperate with the thousands of questions whipping through her head. She just stares back at him, too derailed with confusion to find her voice.

Wyatt doesn't linger on her for more than a second or two. He turns back to Lucy, runs through a brief game plan with her, and then he's off again. Jess hasn't caught a damn word of what they've just said, but as soon as his back is disappearing from view, she's absurdly compelled to chase after him.

Lucy catches her by the arm, inserting her wiry body between Jess and Wyatt, her gaze a little wild as she stares Jess down. "Wait, just - just give him a minute, okay? He'll be fine now."

"But - "

"If he sees you out there, you'll just distract him. We don't get out of this alive if he's distracted."

Jess frowns at that, a little insulted that Lucy would doubt him so blatantly. "You don't trust him to get us out of here?"

"I trust him with my life," Lucy asserts immediately with a conviction that's strong enough to level buildings to the ground. "He's human, though. He's not perfect, not even on his best day. No one is."

She doesn't bother with debating any further. Lucy's like a teeth-baring guard dog that won't quit, and besides that, her argument is pretty sound. Judging by the mysterious meltdown Lucy just pulled him out of, this is clearly not Wyatt's best day. She doesn't want to put him at risk so she'll do as she's told. She'll wait.

She _hates_ waiting.

Seeing as they're stuck here like sitting ducks, an unlikely pair of hearts who have the exceptional privilege - and curse, if she's being honest - of getting tangled up with Wyatt Logan, Jess decides to not waste this opportunity. She has so much she wants to ask Lucy, but she starts with the easiest part.

"What did you tell him out there to...you know, snap him out that funk?"

Lucy is busy craning her neck around the side of the wall, not really focusing on what's being asked of her, repeating the end of the question in a bewildered tone. "...that _funk_?"

She's getting ready to explain the obvious when Lucy glances back at her with a startled look.

"Didn't he already have PTSD before you - I mean, when you guys were together?"

Now Jess is the one who's bewildered. "I...I, uh…"

Oh God, she's an idiot. A big frickin' idiot. Of course he did. He never talked about, never offered to put a precise label on his behavior after his tours of duty, but yes... _yes_ , she'd known. In some way, even though she was in way over her head and had no idea how to break through to that part of him, she'd known.

She recovers with a harsh swallow, careful to keep her eyes averted from Lucy's piercing gaze. "Has he talked about it to you?"

"The PTSD…? I - I mean, he never really laid it all out for me, but he didn't have to. It happened like this before, and I overheard a story about...well, I put the pieces together on my own, I guess. But no. He doesn't talk about it."

Jess had been dreading a 'yes' to that question. She thought it would be painful to know he'd opened up to Lucy when he could never do the same with her. Funny how the unexpected 'no' somehow hits even harder. No, he hasn't opened up, but Lucy knows what to do anyway. Lucy found a way to deal with it on her own terms, to study him and make sense of it without his help, something Jess had no patience to figure out for herself.

With a palpable floundering awkwardness, Lucy tries to fill the weighty silence that follows. "He, um…wasn't much into sharing back then either?"

"Not really."

"So that's a surprise," Lucy says with a slowly arching brow, "Wyatt? Not talking? Can't imagine it."

There's a beat of indecision before Jess feels herself crack with a spill of laughter. It's filled with frayed nerves and apprehension, but there's something genuine to it...something real.

Lucy chuckles too, but the darkness returns to her eyes as several more gunshots go off in the distance. The pause - the insufferable waiting for good or bad news - becomes too much for them both, so she's talking again, almost as if to herself, jamming words into each suspense-driven heartbeat. "What I can't figure out now is what brought it on today...he mostly has those episodes under control, you know? Last time...last time there were some pretty obvious triggers, but I've never seen him totally freeze up outside of that one mission."

"It's probably me," Jess admits with a shallow laugh, one that rings out shakily. "I think he's aged a few years since he found me at the bar. We tend to have that effect on each other."

"No, you wouldn't be saying that if you - " Lucy stops herself with a creasing sigh, shifting gears midstream, " - he really loves you. That's what I'm trying to say."

"Loving someone and being right for them...it's not always the same thing. Wyatt and I - we're a mess. We have almost always been a mess."

Lucy snorts out a quick and caustic, "Who isn't?"

Jess just tilts her head, eyes widening with meaning.

"Me?" she asks thinly. "Hardly. I...my life has been one giant mess from basically day one of this whole ordeal. Every time - every _damn_ time - I think it can't worse, it does. And Wyatt...if Wyatt ever does talk about himself, it's just to keep me from cracking-up entirely. I swear that's the only reason he's ever told me a single thing about himself - to distract me from my own melodrama."

"That, and…" Jess closes her eyes until she's sure she won't get emotional, "...and because he's totally head over heels for you."

"No...no, he couldn't possibly...it's not like that."

"It is. I would know, okay? It is just like that."

Neither of them say anything for a long moment. Their backs are to the wall, the air around them has become miserably stagnant, and the whole thing is just so damn surreal to Jessica, like she's fallen into an impossible dreamland and she suddenly just wants to be home. Safe. Alone. Away from the bizarre onslaught of every ridiculous thing Wyatt has told her since he barged back into her life.

"Just...just know that none of us have it together," Lucy says quietly, anxious fingers wrapping around the pendant at the end of her necklace. "If you're a mess, then you've landed in the right place. _Everyone_ around here is a mess."

She offers a shy half-grin. Jess nods gradually, reluctantly coming to terms with the insane fact that maybe Lucy is far more likeable than she has any right to be under these nebulous circumstances.

But then she really gives Jess no choice but to like her when she blurts out her next words - "And if nothing else, surely we can both agree that Wyatt is _definitely_ a mess."

They eye each other with matching grins, grins that almost instantly bubble over into laughter.

The man in question comes sailing around the edge of their meager shelter while they're still racked with tentative amusement. Wyatt stops up short with both eyebrows raised as his gaze passes between the two of them. "Um, sorry to interrupt the fun, but it's time to go."

He can't wipe away his unease from that point forward. Jess sees the turmoil scribbled all over his face long after they've escaped the throes of danger. It somehow complicates things further now that he's seen her getting along with Lucy. She's not sure why, but that actually makes her feel better even if it's obviously making him feel worse. He can be so short sighted that way, only seeing things from one angle, forcing pieces together that refuse to fit, fighting against the inevitable even when he's armed with nothing but sheer obstinance.

Jess isn't like that. She never has been. To her, laughing with Lucy has been the last sign that it's time to put the pieces down and walk away. The fight is over.

At least now she has some faith that she'll be leaving him in good hands.

* * *

 _You're Out_

She leaves two letters.

One is for Wyatt. His is long. Full of apologies. Full of forgiveness. Tainted with tears and too much time, unbridgeable distance. They've weathered too many fractures, seen so much irreparable damage. Their story is the heartache of two kids who didn't know any better when they ran after that first bolt of lightning.

His letter is nothing more than a formality. They've talked well into the night, hashing out old wounds that should have faded into scar tissue by now. She cried, but only after tears had begun to streak down his face, confessions falling from his lips even faster than the drops of liquid regret that fell from his eyes. It was enough for her; it was the resolution she'd not realized she still needed, their last poignant swan song. He won't be surprised to find her gone this morning. She's sure of it. His last hug had said as much. He'd hugged her like it was goodbye.

The letter to Lucy is much shorter. Her words are simple, albeit a little repetitive, because she has a feeling that Lucy is going to need to hear them a few times before she'll believe them. _He loves you_. _You make him better_. _Let him keep talking to you_. _He needs it as much as you do_. _Don't give up on him_. _Take care of him_. _Let yourself love him back_.

Maybe they can all be friends someday. Maybe not. Either way, Jessica is sure that this is the right thing to do. In fact, it might just be the most right thing she's ever done by Wyatt.

That makes her smile on her way out, because yes, please God, let this even the score for once. Let them stop hurting each other. Let this be their clean slate. Let them both find the happiness they deserve.

Well...she's sure Wyatt has already found his. Now it's time for her to find some happiness for herself too.


End file.
